


Somewhere I can rest my soul

by Elisexyz



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Literal Sleeping Together, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: After all, they have fallen asleep on each other on the couch more than once, this is no different. Actually, this time they have areasonfor this. Namely, not freezing to death and getting some goddamn sleep.





	Somewhere I can rest my soul

**Author's Note:**

> First of all. This is not my fault. [Frivoloussuits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrivolousSuits) mentioned that it's unfair that Harvey and Rachel don't have many fics and therefore they don't have all those classic fanfic tropes used for them... so I started thinking about Harvey/Rachel + clichés, and here we are.  
>  This is a double cliché: roommates + huddling for warmth. And I regret nothing.  
>  Also, one thing: I am not american, so I had to do a little research to see if in America some houses have boilers for the heat (and apparently they do, unless Google lied to me), and I decided to stick with the boiler even if apparently furnaces are more popular, because my house has a boiler and I know how that works. Still, it's an italian boiler, I have no idea if there are some substantial differences, and if there are... forgive me? ^^"  
>  PS: You can find me on Tumblr as [heytheredeann](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com), if you want.

“I think you should check the hydrometer,” Rachel announces, after a quick read at the first four answers on the page.

Harvey turns towards her to give her a very displeased look. “ _Meaning_?”

“That thing that looks like a clock, sort of,” she supplies. Normally, she’d probably take a dig at his incompetence and his lack of preparation – you move out of your parents’ house and you don’t even bother learning a thing or two about how the heat works? –, but her fingers are getting numb and she just can’t wait to lay down and _relax_ , she’s not going to waste any time.

Harvey gives her a nod before going back to inspecting the source of all their problems.

“Is it under zero?” she asks, praying that that’s the problem with the damn thing. It’s too cold for the boiler to stop working, and it’s _one in the morning_ , can’t they catch a break already?

“Yeah,” Harvey announces. “What does Google think I should do?” he adds, a note of exasperation in his voice.

“Turn the black knob until the hydrometer goes between two and three, then close it,” she explains, allowing herself the luxury of hoping that it’ll work, as she drops the phone on her lap and hides her freezing hands in the sleeves of the sweater that she stole from Harvey’s closet for this very purpose.

“Okay, done—” he begins, starting to move away from the damn thing, then he lets out a frustrated groan. “It’s _dropping_ again.”

“Shit,” she supplies, throwing her head back, and wondering if it’s possible to just melt into the chair and become a piece of furniture for the rest of her life. Chairs don’t need to sleep or make the heat work, right? “There’s probably some problem with the pump then, and we need to call someone to fix it,” she recites what she read a few minutes ago, and Harvey looks predictably unhappy: there are people who take calls during the night, for emergencies, but aside from the fact that said people might be already out, which would mean waiting around for them, it’d also mean getting properly dressed, staying awake waiting for them, staying awake through the reparations, go to sleep god knows _when_ and then still get up for class.

Well, Harvey should probably get that look off his face, considering that it wouldn’t be the first time that he’s slept through a lecture and copied her notes, this shouldn’t be too much of a nuisance for him.

“I vote for a pile of blankets and dealing with it tomorrow,” he announces.

Rachel nods. “Yeah, let’s just go to sleep.”

 

Sleeping with an oversized sweater, socks and an extra blanket on her bed makes her feel a bit like a giant burrito, and the worst thing is that she’s still _cold_. Not freezing, at least, but her face is cold, the _bed_ is still cold, and she’d probably need another blanket – which she doesn’t have, because the damn house was supposed to have _heating_ , they didn’t pack a hundred blankets thinking that they’d have to do this –, not to mention that she keeps thinking about how pissed she is that that boiler is apparently so damn _old_ that the pump is giving out mere months after they started using it.

She knows that she’s not getting any of the sleep she needs like this.

“Harvey?” she calls, knowing that in the silence she’s gonna hear her even from the room in front of hers.

She sees him sitting up on his bed, even if she can’t make out much in the dark. “Yeah?”

“Is this working for you?”

A pause. “Not really, no.”

“Great, me neither,” she announces, standing up and grabbing her extra blanket before heading in the direction of his room. She doesn’t ask for permission, knowing that if he wasn’t okay with it he’d make it clear, and she drops the blanket on his bed as he shifts towards his right to make room for her on her preferred side of the bed.

After all, they have fallen asleep on each other on the couch more than once, this is no different. Actually, this time they have a _reason_ for this. Namely, not freezing to death and getting some goddamn sleep.

She has to climb over him to get to the empty side of the bed, which makes him scoff in amusement. “Woah, aren’t you being a little forward here?” he jokes.

“Shut up, it’s freezing,” she replies, which is probably not her smartest comeback, but in her defence she’s exhausted and she’s trying to slip under the covers as fast as possible, because sweater or not it’s awfully cold outside of the bed. Harvey mercifully helps her through it, even if she can _feel_ that he’s still grinning, and she’s soon curled up under the covers, hands hidden in her sleeves and kept close to her chest because they are still cold.

The pillow at least is already warm.

“Well, goodnight then,” Harvey announces, amused and totally still grinning. Rachel waits for him to turn away from her, because the guy usually sleeps on his right side – or at least he starts up that way, one morning she has found him lying across the bed with his arms spread and one arm hanging out of the mattress –, then she shifts a bit closer and curls up against him, half-heartedly praying that he won’t start teasing her about it.

Wishful thinking, obviously.

“Hey, if you want to cuddle, you just have to ask,” he says, and she can’t see him but he _is_ grinning. Again. That’s the tone he uses when he thinks he’s being funny, and he looks all smug and the corner of his lips curl up in that slightly asymmetrical way that makes him look like even more of an asshole.

“I’m trying to _survive_ here,” she protests. “Get over yourself.”

“Well, _I_ am not against cuddling,” he announces, before turning around so that he’s facing her – Rachel manages to shift away just enough to leave a small bit of personal space between them, if of personal space you can talk when you are curled up in a bed – and slipping his arm under her neck, inviting her to come closer. “Come on, as you said, it’s freezing,” he says, and it sounds perfectly _innocent_ , which means that it’s a challenge. And she’s not backing down. He wants to cuddle? Cuddling it is, then.

“You know what?” she says, smiling pleasantly, because she’s starting to make out his face as her eyes get used to the dark, so he surely is too. “You’re right. Let’s exploit all this body heat.”

She quickly shifts closer to him so that her head is resting against his shoulder, she somehow manages to make her right arm fit between the two of them and she slides her left arm around him. Just to drive the point home, she also slips her left leg in between his, so that she’s clinging onto him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Better?” she asks, her tone deliberately sweet, even as her heart skips a beat.

“Much better,” he agrees, amused, sliding his free arm around her nonchalantly. Except she’s curled up against him, there’s no way she can miss the increased heartrate. She fights off a smile, deciding to cut him some slack, just this once, let him hope that she didn’t notice or think anything of it – pots and kettles and all that.

“Night, Harvey,” she says, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth of their new arrangement before sinking a bit more in his sweater, trying to get as comfortable as possible.

This is nice. For a second she contemplates forgetting to call someone to fix the boiler.

“Night, Rachel.”


End file.
